


At Your Mercy

by ohnojustimagine



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26404774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnojustimagine/pseuds/ohnojustimagine
Summary: Drew is still worked up after attacking Randy on Raw.
Relationships: Drew McIntyre/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	At Your Mercy

He's still wearing the tank top and black jeans he wore in the ring tonight, and there's a look in his eyes, a darkness you haven't seen there for a while, maybe not since the days of the Scottish Psychopath.

You sit back on the bed, naked, suddenly feeling very, very small as he stands before you, looming tall and forbidding. There's something about the way the straps of the tank top frame his shoulders and arms, the way it hugs across his chest, that makes him seem even _more_ huge than normal, every muscle in his upper body bulging thick, corded with veins.

He smiles at you, menacing, as he unbuckles his belt, and you gasp softly as he slowly pulls it out of the loops on his jeans, watching as he holds both ends in one hand, doubling it over. He stares down at it for a minute and then, without warning, snaps it tight between his hands, the sound of leather cracking on leather like lightning echoing through the room.

And perhaps there really is a storm coming, because you can't stop yourself from flinching, and you know he sees, because he laughs. "Don't you trust me?"

You swallow, apprehensive, but you answer truthfully, saying, "You know I do."

"Do I?" he muses. "Are you sure I know that?"

"I..." you start, but he interrupts.

"Because maybe we need to prove that," he tells you. "Maybe you need to _show_ me." You don't know what to say, but it seems it doesn't matter, because he's already made his decision.

"Lie down," he orders you. "Turn over." And you obey, because what else can you do, helpless to his will, lying on your front, feeling him climb onto the bed beside you.

You wait, trying not to hold your breath, and minutes pass in silence, but then all at once you hear the rush of the belt cutting through the air, not even an instant before it lands on your ass like something red hot, the noise of it almost as shocking as the impact, leather on flesh, sharp and primal. Your body barely has a chance to properly register the pain before there's another lash, right across your ass, and it seems Drew has no intention of taking his time with you tonight, because he doesn't stop, not until you're almost crying, because every hit hurts more, and then _more._

Your eyes are watering and there's a sob trapped tight in your throat, choking you, and it's all you can do to stay still, willing yourself to not fight it, not fight _him._

But then he stops, and you exhale a shaking breath as he lowers himself down over you, huge arms either side of your body, weight pressed onto you as he rubs himself up against your ass, his cock hard through his jeans, the denim so rough against your tender skin that you moan, struggle a little, but he's too big, too heavy.

"Tell me how it feels," he says, just like he said to Randy in the ring, his mouth against your ear.

You can't speak, shaking your head, and your hear him chuckle, richly amused. "How does it feel?" he asks you. "Tell me. Does it hurt?"

You manage to nod.

"But you like it, don't you?"

"Yes," you whisper, ashamed, because it's true.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Your voice cracks on the word, broken and raw with need.

"I'm going to fuck you," he murmurs. "So hard. So, _so_ hard." He sits up, caressing your ass, stroking softly, light and gentle enough that you have to whine. "But I don't think you're ready for me, not yet."

You hear the soft clink of the belt buckle as he again takes it in hand, and you want to say _no_ , but you bite down on the word, moaning as the belt lands sharp across your ass.

"Yes," Drew says.


End file.
